


Desire me

by captainhurricane



Series: Kinktober 2018 [17]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Collars, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Orgasm Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 14:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16327418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: Please, sir.





	Desire me

**Author's Note:**

> today's words are orgasm denial and collaring

What the entire kingdom knows: the prince is a brat, more interested in adventures, in sulking, in books than training to be the future king like his father. The prince has a trusty band of friends, one of them being his Shield, who is often seen giving the prince noogies or shouting at him during training.

What the entire kingdom doesn’t know: the prince and his Shield have a private game. It’s the reason why the prince mostly dresses himself and bathes himself. It’s the reason why the prince’s chambers are always tightly locked up, why the Shield spends more time with the prince than the others.

The brattier the prince acts outside his rooms, the deeper the Shield’s frown grows.

Most people think the Shield should punish the prince for his insolence.

Nobody knows that the Shield does exactly that.

Intimacy between the king and his Shield aren’t unheard of or explicitly forbidden, but they are not to be flaunted. Especially when that intimacy includes collars, begging, the prince’s flushed face and his clawing hands.

The prince is a brat who needs to be punished: The Shield is his punisher, his lover, his master and his king. Inside the prince’s chambers, during this private game, the prince is the one who obeys, who gags and who begs.

“What a bad little boy,” whispers Gladiolus, the Shield of the future King.

They have made the rules for each other. They have a box full of toys for these situations. This day had been bad. Noctis, the brat prince, had been bad.

He deserves this.

Noctis isn’t allowed on the bed just yet: the carpet under his knees is soft enough, but it will have to be cleaned. The collar adorning Noctis’ slender swan-neck is ocean-blue and pretty, a single sapphire over the lock leading to the leash held in Gladio’s hand. Another shiny chain connects to Noctis’ wrists, pulled tight behind his back.

Noctis shudders when Gladio amps up the vibrator plugged inside Noctis, the cockring squeezing Noctis’ cock too tight, painfully tight.

“Truly, I don’t think you have earned to come. I don’t think you have even earned my cock, little slut prince,” Gladio purrs, drags his fingers through Noctis’ hair.

Noctis moans. His lips are parted. “Sir,” he whispers, mouths Gladio’s covered cock. He shifts, unable to get up, to do anything but whine. His heart beats, his world is reduced to just his Sir, looming so big and broad over him.

The vibrator stops whirring, but Noctis sobs, rubs his face on Gladio’s thick thigh. “Sir, please.”

“But you’ve been very bad today, slut,” Gladio hums. His fingers draw through Noctis’ sweat-damp hair, while the other keeps a tight hold on the short leash. “What are you going to do to make up for your actions?”

Noctis’ eyes are so big, red-rimmed, his cheeks flushed as he looks up. Gladio’s cock twitches in his pants. Shoving his cock in that panting mouth is an attractive option.

“A-anything, Sir, please – “ Noctis licks Gladio’s clothed bulge, lets out a desperate little yelp when Gladio yanks his head away from there.

“That desperate for my cock, little boy?”

Noctis pants, his tongue lolling out. “Yes – “

“That desperate to come, are you?”

Noctis whines. He squirms, tries to rub his thighs together, the cockring pressing tight into him, his balls ready to burst. “Y-yes, please – “

Gladio smirks. He pulls out his cock. “Suck my balls then, slut prince. That’s what brats like you are good for.” He pulls Noctis hard against himself and instantly Noctis’ desperate wet mouth is on his thick, heavy balls. Noctis laps at them, sucks them, fills his mouth and nose with Gladio’s taste and Gladio’s scent. He whines and whimpers, pants like a dog in heat.

His collar is on tight enough that a few tugs from Gladio is enough to cut the air off. Black spots dance under Noctis’ tear-stained eyelids, he gasps for air, drool drying on his lips and chin when Gladio tugs him off his balls.

“That’s a good boy, there’s a good boy,” Gladio growls now and leans down, down, kisses that sloppy, messy mouth. “Wanna come now, boy?” Gladio slaps him, licks between those aching raw lips.

Noctis wails when Gladio tugs him again. “Yes! Yes, Sir! I wanna come so bad, p-please!” He’s straining against his restraints, gasping, sobbing.

Gladio’s cock pulses hard and throbbing. He grips it tight and groans. He lets out a curse and pushes his prince on his back, takes that aching red cock in his mouth. Gladio snaps the cockring off and without a word: Noctis climaxes, explodes down Gladio’s throat, spilling endlessly and arching and writhing. Noctis is crying as he shakes through his orgasm and doesn’t stop quivering when he’s milked dry and Gladio frees his hands.

Noctis sobs as he’s pulled into an embrace.

“You did good, my love,” Gladio hums, his voice having lost the sharp edge of Sir and returned back to the low grumble of Gladio, just Gladio. “So good.” Gladio kisses Noctis’ forehead, his temples, his nose. Begins to rub Noctis’ shaking arms.

Noctis hiccups and buries his face in Gladio’s neck.


End file.
